


Creation Day Conundrum

by DoctorWhovian9209



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Birthday Presents, Fluff, M/M, Teeth Rotting Sweetness, old mechs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 22:23:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12094722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorWhovian9209/pseuds/DoctorWhovian9209
Summary: Swerve is bad at Creation Day Presents, Ultra Magnus doesn't seem to think so.





	Creation Day Conundrum

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! 
> 
> This one was written just because I couldn't get the idea out of my head and just because it's been a hell of a week for me.  
> Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it

Swerve didn’t know what to get Ultra Magnus for his creation day, so he asked his patrons who as it turned out, were  no help whatsoever. “Get him a personality!” Rodimus had suggested, that had earned the insolent speedster a glare. “Rodimus, be serious!” Swerve had chastised. “I am being completely serious.”  Which earned the co-captain another glare.

 

 So Swerve tried  a different approach, asking Drift, thinking that the clearheaded swordsmech might have a better answer, he was wrong. “Get him laid, he’s too uptight.” Swerve held his helm in his servos, groaned and exvented.

 

 “Drift, just turn off your vocalizer, it’d be better for everyone.” The swordsmech had just offered a smile, and  a shrug of his spaulders. “You asked what I thought he needed. I gave you an answer.” Swerve had waved him off stating that he had been spending too much time with Rodimus. Which earned the bartender a wink in return before he sauntered off.   _Frag it_. Swerve thought. _Useless mechs._

 As his Creation Day neared, Ultra-Magnus just felt old. He went to see Ratchet in the medbay until the medic finally said something. “Magnus, what are you _doing_ here?” Ratchet was exasperated, “I’ve checked you over several times in the last several days, each time there has been _nothing wrong with you.”_ Ultra  Magnus looked at Ratchet with pleading optics “Please just find something wrong with me.” Ratchet looked affronted “Are you doubting my medical expertise?” the medic scowled at him. “if I tell you there’s nothing wrong with you, there is nothing wrong with you.” Ratchet’s tone held an air of finality, that  Ultra Magnus didn’t question. “I just feel old.. my parts just need a tune up or something.” He exvented deeply “My Creation Day is in two days and I just feel ancient.”

 

Ratchet looked at his patient with sympathetic optics, “I know what you need.” He finally said with a sly grin, he dug around in his desk drawer for something until he pulled out a picture from one of Swerve’s Themed Nights. The medic held the picture in his servo like it was something to be cherished.  When Magnus finally saw the picture, he was astonished. He shuttered his optics rapidly, unsure of what exactly he was looking at.

 

“Ratchet is that…?” The question dissolved into thin air as Ultra  Magnus trailed off. The medics lipplates held a sly grin, “Yes.  And I’ve still got it. In case you were wondering.” Ultra Magnus looked at the picture again and sure enough it hadn’t changed.

 

In the photo, Ratchet was in the middle of two mechs who had intertwined their servos around his waist, denta flashing at the camera, laughter in their optics while  Ratchet wore a slag eating grin.  Both of whom the other bot recognized. “Drift AND Rodimus at the _same time_? How’d you pull that off?” Ultra-Magnus stated impressed.

 

Ratchet chuckled “Lots of patience and damn good stamina.” The medic chuckled again, and with a shallow exvent said “Look my point is, don’t be afraid to put yourself out there again, I know it’s scary, but _frag_ is it worth it.”

 

When Ultra Magnus found himself in his habsuite later that night he decided to take the medics advice, Ratchet was just as old as he was, and if he could get _two_ mechs in his berth, the lieutenant could surely get _one._   Problem was, there was only one that he wanted.

 

Swerve was beyond nervous, he’d worked for the past two days to get a present forged for Ultra Magnus and he’d scrapped his two other projects with choruses of _“Stupid idiot, he won’t use it. Ever”_   until he finally decided on a reusuable Energon cube.  “ Or it could be used for something else. It wasn’t just strictly an Energon Cube. As Swerve explained this to Rodimus over the captain’s high grade that night, he just simply said “I told you, get him a personality, you can forge one of those right?” Swerve invented sharply glaring at Rodimus “If you weren’t my superior I’d smack you, do you know that?” Rodimus had just winked at him “Careful, I might be into that.” 

 

The metallurgist fixed his optics on the speedster, who just grinned back at him slyly. “Seriously, get over your nerves, go over there and make out with him!” Swerve clamped a servo over Rodimus’s lipplates “Do you have to announce it? For Primus sake Rodimus!” The captain fixed him with a ‘ _Really?’_ look over his drink. “Oh like everyone on the Lost Light doesn’t know that you want to frag him senseless.” Swerve felt his faceplates heat up. “Is it really that obvious?”  the bartender whispered. Rodimus smirked, “Um, Duh.” The speedster stated, sass dripping from his vocalizer.

 

Swerve found himself pacing in front of Ultra Magnus’ habsuite a little later that night. He had closed the bar early in anticipation for this moment, spark almost ready to jump out of his chest. Swerve was wondering if he should just drop the gift off in front of the door, knock and make a run for it. His pedes kept him rooted to the spot. After a few soft knocks,  one loud one  and no answer, Swerve felt foolish.

 

 “Of course he wouldn’t be here, you fragging idiot, its his creation day! He’s probably out doing something!” he  whispered out loud to himself more than anyone.  Swerve felt a shock down his spinal strut when he heard a voice behind him. “Yeah, I was looking for you. But you shut the bar down early.” Ultra Magnus looked perplexed “Why?” Swerve’s faceplates heated “How long have you been standing there?” he questioned  staring at the floor.

 

 “Long enough to know that you think I have a social life.” The lieutenant mused , a smile on his lipplates. He reached over and keyed in the code for his habsuite  as the door opened he motioned for Swerve to go ahead of him. “Come in and celebrate with me, unless you have more pressing matters to attend to.”   The bot was balancing on his pedes, staring at the open door like it would sink its denta into him.  Was Swerve _nervous?_  Ultra Magnus thought, and pushed the thought out of his processor. “It’s just a door Swerve. It won’t close on you, promise.” Ultra Magnus said, laughing as Swerve stepped inside hurriedly.

 

  As the two bots stood there in a comfortable silence for what felt like an eternity, just staring at each other.  Swerve cleared his intake softly “I have something for you.” Ultra Magnus’ optics lit up in surprise when the smaller mech pulled out a beautifully wrapped box. “Happy Creation Day Mags” Swerve whispered. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like it but-“ the metallurgist  stopped talking when he felt a digit press to his lipplates,  “If it’s from you, I’m sure I’ll love it, whatever it is “ Ultra Magnus alleged quietly, still staring at the box in reverence. “I’m afraid to open it though.” Swerve laughed nervously “It’s not gonna explode, I promise. “ Ultra Magnus had to smile at that “Are you sure?” he questioned. Swerve smiled again, reaching for the box. “if you don’t want it, I’ll keep it and you can have it back when you learn to trust me.” The bartender said seriously. The lieutenant held his servo that held the present above Swerve’s helm so he couldn’t reach it.  “It’s _my_ present and besides, you can’t reach it from down there anyway!”

 

Swerve feigned anger and spun on his pedes and made to walk out of the habsuite,  when Ultra Magnus grasped his servo tightly and spun him back around to face him. Swerve was smiling. “You cheeky mech. I thought you were really angry with me!” the commander stated on a laugh. Swerve looked at him seriously “Do you often question that people give you explosives as presents ?” Ultra-Magnus’ smile faltered “I don’t normally get anything from anyone as gifts, plus with Whirl on the ship, you never know.” Swerve laughed, the commander had a point.

 

“Just open your fragging gift already!” Swerve stated impatiently. He watched in silence as the older mech tore off the paper with sparkling-esque glee. Inside the box was a bottle of the highest grade enegex and a silver cube , engraved with something in old Cybertronian that made him pause.  “W-what?” Ultra Magnus stated shocked,  no bot had ever gotten him anything that nice before.

 

“If you don’t like it, I can redo it or something” Swerve stated quickly mistaking the commanders shock for dislike. He knew he should have just not bothered at all.

 

“No!” came the hurried reply “Swerve…I…this is really nice, thank you” Swerve felt his faceplates heat up at the reaction. Ultra-Magnus asked him what the inscription meant, even though he knew exactly what it said he needed to hear Swerve say it. “It means…” the smaller mech trailed off, intake suddenly dry  “..It means…I love you…okay?” Swerve’s voice was small and unsure “Can’t you read Old Cybertronian anyway?” Ultra Magnus  pulled the smaller mech close to him, snaked a servo around his waist and kissed him deeply, his glossa begging for entrance and when they broke apart both exventing hard, the commander growled  into the bartender’s audials “I wanted to hear you say it.” before devouring Swerves intake with kisses and bites of his denta.


End file.
